


Constricted

by isometricradiance



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: HeartGold & SoulSilver | Pokemon HeartGold & SoulSilver Versions
Genre: 2 seconds of Eevee?, F/M, Friendship, Trans!Silver - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5630560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isometricradiance/pseuds/isometricradiance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Silver finds himself in a bit of a bind, and who is there to help out but Lyra?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constricted

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I am Mars, and I'm new here. To kick things off, have some Trans!Silver and his (dys)functional friendship with Lyra.

Silver would be damned if he ever bought something labeled “for lesbians” ever again. Not that he had anything against lesbians, but the binder he had procured from a catalogue was not only flattening his chest--it seemed to be crushing his ribs like a soda can. He wondered if the people passing by him on the street, the main stretch of Goldenrod City, noticed how uncomfortable he looked. He wondered if they noticed the sweat plastering his hair to his face, or the shallow unsatisfying breaths he took to fill his lungs. The worst part was that Silver couldn’t really fix it. In the Pokemon Center bathroom, he had attempted to wrench it off, contort to unlatch the hooks in the back, and even cut slits with his pocketknife to allow him extra room to slip out. No such luck; Silver had merely succeeded at tearing a deep, bloody gouge in his hip and wrenching his shoulder. His hip and shoulders stung, and his chest ached, a reminder of his intense pride. How the hell was he going to get himself out of this one? He wasn’t about to ask anyone for help; who would even understand why he was compressed into that stupid binder in the first place?

“Silver!” He cringed. Lyra’s voice. He turned to see a rather tiny brunette, clad in a breezy little summer dress to combat the heat, running toward him with an Eevee at her heels. What an awful time for the brunette to show up! He had come to welcome her intrusions, but at the moment, it felt like a sick joke to him. But you could ask her for help, a snide voice in the back of his mind muttered. Ask her to unhook it. She doesn’t have to know what it’s for. 

Pride quickly silenced that voice, and Silver tried to look down upon his rival with a cool air of indifference. He guessed that he had to look nauseated, though. “Hi, Lyra,” he greeted in return, his voice cracking. There was dark fuzziness in the corners of his vision.

Lyra raised her eyebrows. “Puberty?”

“None of your business,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around himself. He gazed around anxiously. People were staring at him, weren’t they? They totally knew what was going on. Everyone had to know. 

His head spun, and he felt Lyra’s hands gripping his arm. “Whoa, Silver!” His eyes focused again; he had stumbled, and now Lyra, nearly head and shoulders shorter than him, was supporting him. “Are you okay? You look so pale! And you just about squished me! And Eevee!” Eevee mewed in agreement as she circled the pair.

Silver shook his head. Lyra, I’m bound so tight I’m going to break a rib, he wanted to say, but the words seemed trapped behind his teeth. Lyra said something else, but he didn’t hear it. The black in the corner of his eyes overwhelmed his vision, and his last thought was, Shit. She’s going to find out.

-

When Silver came to, he was laying on his stomach on what felt like a cot--most likely a Pokemon Center cot, judging by the sunken pillow top his chest and stomach were pressed into. The binder was still on but was now unhooked, lying open over his bare back. He inhaled deeply, savoring the oxygen flooding his system. Bless, he thought. 

His eyes flew open. Who had opened the binder? And where was his shirt? He scrambled into a sitting position and scrambled for a blanket to cover himself. “Whoa, whoa! Wait!” Silver’s eyes widened. Lyra sat in the armchair in the corner with concern written all over her face. She stood up and walked over, easing him back down onto the mattress. “I think you’re kind of hurt right now. There was a big cut on your hip and your shoulder is all bruised. You need to rest,” she said. 

He simply stared at her as she grabbed the blanket he was reaching for and settled it over him. Her dress was rumpled and sweat glistened across her brow; clearly she had worked hard to get him into the safety of this room. What was she even thinking? She had to have seen the breasts he tried so hard to contain. Lyra dragged the armchair closer and sat down, giving him a smile. “So. How are you feeling?”

“Uh...okay, I guess,” he muttered. He stared hard at her while he tried to figure out how she truly felt. Wouldn’t she hate him? Johto was such a socially conservative region; as soon as he felt better she would obviously cast him out.

Lyra beamed and adjusted the blanket, covering his bare, pale shoulder. “I’m glad that you’re okay. It was touch and go. You kind of passed out on me, and Typhlosion had to help me get you in here. He’s not too enthused about that, by the way,” she added, chuckling a little bit.

He couldn’t help but smile weakly back at her. The smile fell from his face and he lowered his head, resting it on his crossed arms. Lyra made a tiny noise of concern. “What’s wrong?” she asked. She lowered herself and peered at his face. “You still look sick.”

“You saw. Why are you acting like nothing’s changed?” Silver muttered.

Lyra fell silent. She’s going to kick my ass, Silver thought. I mentioned the Donphan in the room. Idiot. You should’ve milked her hospitality. He started to sit up again, to pull away from this situation, but he was stopped by Lyra’s hand on his shoulder. Her hand was so warm and soft on his bare skin. He turned to look at her.

Her eyes were on him, filled with warmth and a faint smile touching her lips. The strap of her sundress had slid down her shoulder. She was so confident in her femininity; Giovanni would have loved for Silver to be like her instead of...instead of transgendered, he thought. She lifted her hand from his shoulder and smoothed his wild hair. Her hand lingered on his head for a moment longer. “Hey. It doesn’t matter to me one way or another,” she said with a smile. “You’re my rival and friend. Doesn’t matter if you were born a girl.”

Relief flooded through him. To Lyra, it didn’t at all matter. It was no big deal. You’re my rival and friend, she had said so sincerely. No one else had accepted him before this moment; yet, being the nitpicker that he was, he couldn’t thank her and simply corrected, “Born with a female sex.”

Lyra groaned and tugged at one of her pigtails self-consciously. “Crap. Sorry. I don’t know a ton about it.”

“No matter,” Silver muttered. He gathered the blanket around himself with one hand and fixed Lyra’s dress strap. “Actually, it matters a lot to me.” She looked up at him, confused as he toyed for a moment with the thin strap. With a soft sigh, he explained, “It matters a lot to me that this doesn’t bother you.”

Lyra smiled and rested her hand on top his. She wrapped her fingers around his and beamed back at him. Her expression turned more serious. “Now. We need to find you a binder that doesn’t make you faint. ” She peeled away from him and tossed him his t-shirt, which Silver caught.

“If it’s called a ‘lesbian’ something or other I’ll die again.” In one fluid movement, Silver removed the blanket and stripped off the binder. He donned his t-shirt, annoyed by the presence of his breasts without his binder, and he quickly wrapped his arms around his chest. For the moment he was uncomfortable, but that would be remedied soon. With Lyra’s knowledge of his deepest secret and her easy acceptance of it, Silver felt like he could take on the world, binder or no. Lyra looked over and smiled, and he returned the expression with ease.


End file.
